Imp was not too far off--clinging to a tree, in fact, biting at a snake he'd found there. Tormenting it, really, not even trying to eat the damn thing. When he heard his father's bellow, he turned his head.

Worth bothering with? He's Father. Always asleep. Boring, boring, boring--but maybe Bog is there. Maybe MERROW. Sister.

A thrill ran through him; he wanted to fight and bite and play and swim and dive. To challenge his sister to a swimming contest and a fire contest and maybe a killing-things contest. With a loud screech, he leapt off the tree and spread his webbed forelimbs. He caught the air, soaring over the mist and gliding down toward the distant sound of Dragon's voice.

Soon enough he caught sight of the alligator: perched on a stone ledge, and nearby Tal'at, and sure enough, Merrow. Tal'at was Other-Dad, and he'd never felt a reason to bite him, at least. He was mild, and Imp actually liked him.

So when he landed in the muck he bounded over to Merrow instead, squawking. Like her he was near full-grown, yet like her he was still simply obnoxious. He could speak clearly and well, but often with her, he resorted to her own methods.

"MERROW. Sister. We should fight. We should dive. I bet I can dive farther. I bet I can make more fire."

His thick ridged tail lashed over the wet of the swamp, and for good measure--as if to remind his sister that Imp, too, was still fire--he ignited his clawed feet. Smoke roiled upward, the swamp water below hissing at his touch--a greeting, and a challenge.

Everything, everything was falling apart, the tendrils of trust he'd let entangle themselves among the mortal Rot growing heavy, weighing him down instead of keeping him connected. The nauseating hurt, the utter weakness that had filled him in Fornax had turned into boiling anger, fueling the heavy steps that dug into mud and teared through roots. The hunger that had settled in his gullet constantly as a reborn child, only satisfied by the game, hunting the worms that dotted the swamp until they wordlessly begged for death - it was back, for the first time in cycles. And it was freeing, to feel it sing through his veins again, because these mortals that had chosen him for their family were too complex, and he was too attached to tear into them, too reliant on them to die trying.

But they were weak. All of them, relying on a black and white checkerboard of right and wrong, seeing a beast grow angry at being disturbed and hurting it, seeing death where only rebirth lay, intentions when nothing but accidents had lead them, all of them, here. He could say it, now, in their own little language, so stilted and aged in comparison to the one that measured his thoughts - but what was the use? They didn't want to hear anything but what their own wills allowed. The hollow, shadowy mass of tendrils deep within lashed out at the greying memories that had become locked in their cages, setting them free to drop to the floor, withering away until the stone was littered with bones. This - all of this - was wrong.

Muddy water splashed up into his chest as he ran, signaling his entrance into Cetus, once instantly relaxing, now only putting him more on edge. Grandfather was a target, here, too powerful for others to understand. They would attack him. They would slaughter all of them, the fire the bird had spoken of so passionately would truly burn with steady jaws, and the swamp would turn into a graveyard. It couldn't happen - it wouldn't. He wouldn't lose another child, and he would die before Tal'at at harmed again, no matter what the traitorous Rot assumed. A call rose up over the fields, the familiar voice of his father, and Czernobog's eyes narrowed, body switching tracks in a fluid instant. There was no purpose in hiding his instincts behind a bumbling gait and slurring speech anymore.

It didn't matter to the monsters whether you could speak, whether you had a family.

It mattered that you existed.

He rounded onto Dragon's gathering place, slowing down long before, heavy footsteps thudding until the massive hog was staring out and down at the alligator. His gaze was heavy and dark, and stayed on his father only for a moment, breath shuddering in his chest, before he was running a gentle snout over Merrow and Imp, making sure the children were safe, couldn't stand to see more blood pumping through scales... and then he danced back, stepped forward, between Dragon and the rest of the Rot. The reptile had been gone, asleep, it seemed, for far too long to fall right back into their well-oiled bond.

He didn't think too long about what that bond meant, because it would make him think of the zdrajca's words, and once had been enough. "Father. You called?"

{ art by dark } ~ { table by aura . edited by banshee and dark }

Footsteps - loud and fast, and Czernobog's head rose to peer into the swamp, maw lifting into a pleased grin and tail flicking to and fro at the sight of his son, as large and fierce as his adoptive father. "Don't be frightened, son. This is your rodzina." Snout rising to bump at the underside of the cassowary's beak, the boar was slow to return his attention to Dragon, obviously checking the bird over for injuries before he turned black, beady eyes back to the alligator. The absence of Willow was obvious, painful, but the voids left by Isi and Eve were a dull, scarred over pain. The messenger, he barely remembered. Ears perking up as he was addressed, the monster snorted, dipping his head in acquiescence. "Family, father. He has chosen the name... Peanuts," he added, voice, for the first time in a solid week, mildly amused. "He is fast, strong, loyal. Trustworthy." The last was added in a grumble, chewed between rough teeth like cud. The traitor's words would be brought up, and soon, but this was Dragon's show, and Czernobog knew better than to insult him by raising the issue now.

And then his father was speaking, tone grave and words grandiose, and the creature slowly eased down, back hocks sinking into the mud, one eye on the children to make sure they didn't wander off - or try to eat his leg. Again. The boar listened to the words with the same attentive stare as always, but without the glow of awe that had often lit his eyes when it came to both Dragon and the water beast that lurked in Cetus' depths. Staying silent and still, letting the words slither into his ears and slowly translate into the language he knew by heart was a change from his youth, but a freeing one. Even as a child, he'd hidden behind his earliest ignorance, kept it as a shield... but the ruse had backfired, it seemed, if Eve thought him the ignorant son of a murderer.

We will go out, and we will kill and harm those dear to them.

Black eyes widened in surprise, fear slowly churning into that familiar, displacing nausea.

And when we have their attention: then they will come.

He could see it now - hundreds of them, all as powerful as those that had risen against the harmless Leviathan, an animal that hadn't even hunted for a fight. Teeth and fangs would rain down on them, fill the swamp with bodies until the last of his family was dead, and he would never find his daughter, never find the little bird that had given him the only gifts he'd ever received, would never be able to tell Cayenne he was sorry.

And then we will make them see.

Nostrils flaring and ears flipping backwards, Czernobog's back straightened, staring down his snout at his father, Eve's words ringing in his ears. How many more people is he gonna have to injure, is he gonna have to burn alive before you open your eyes? Eyes sliding shut, a low, rattling breath escaped him, and the boar's hackles rose, shadowing his already massive shoulders until he resembled a dark ink stain in the fog. How much longer until he decides to torch you alive, huh? Fire, burning at his stomach, his ribs, extinguished by the thin inner lining of his chest cavity - he wouldn't survive it again.

So he waited to be addressed, given orders, winced at those given to the children, imagining them torn apart, their bodies sent back as a warning. Tal'at - he couldn't. He wouldn't let his brother be hurt again. Dark eyes slid open, narrowing in on Dragon, slits of black against black. "You ask too much." Slowly, he rose, back legs trembling under the strain of the permanently twisted lumbar vertebrae of his back. "You invite hell upon us, father. I will die for you, but I will not let you murder my brother or our children." Head shaking from side to side in agitation, the boar chuffed, tusks snapping against his lower teeth. "I have come from a great battle - a swarm of outsiders, joined together to slaughter a beast of Aquarian's kin. Of our kin. Don't you see?" Desperation trickled into his voice, and Czernobog grimaced. "We have lost so much, singer. The outsiders will kill those defending their homes without remorse - what chance do we have of fighting them all off, unified to destroy us, when we murder their family? Their children?" He stepped forward, hooves digging into mud as his shoulder moved to tap against the cassowary at his side's wing. "My daughter is gone. The friends I have made have turned against our ways, and even our own have abandoned us."

Watching Eve leave twice, helpless to stop it, weak and pathetic and made to feel like a monster - a soft intake of breath, and Czernobog frowned, ears drooping down. "Those outside of us are... savages. Animals. They care only for themselves. If we must attack, we must do so quietly. Silently. Until the most powerful among them are dead, and the weak scatter without leaders to guide them." The raptors and their gigantic queen came to mind, and he grunted, gaze drifting to his brother.

"But I have lost Tal'at once. I will not lose him again."